


A Rumor

by NugJuggler (Viscariafields)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Wicked Grace, magic underwear, templar jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29888415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/NugJuggler
Summary: The real story behind what inspired Wicked Grace night and the way it ended.
Kudos: 5





	A Rumor

“Inquisitor!” Josephine waved exuberantly from her seat in the back of the tavern. At least, Ottie thought it was Josie. All she really had to go on was the accent and the rings adorning her delicate waving fingers. Ottie shoved her way over and Josephine offered her a seat at a large, empty table. “Regarding the rumor you mentioned…”

That caught Ottie’s attention. She sat a bit straighter in the chair she had only just occupied.

Josie huffed in disappointment. “I asked Cassandra about it, but she only replied, ‘I will not dignify that with a response.’”

“Hmm.” That did sound like Cassandra. “That could really go either way, then.”

“That is what I thought as well.”

“What rumor is this?” Varric asked, thumping his tankard on the table with Dorian close at heel. “If it’s about the little stuffed nug with hearts for eyes that was found suspiciously close to her bedroll, that one is definitely real.”

“No, not that one,” Ottie replied, drumming her fingers on the table, “The rumor that all templars are supplied with special undergarments meant to repel magic and protect from demons.”

Varric choked on his ale, but he recovered much quicker than Dorian. Dorian was still spluttering when Varric said, “That’s no rumor. That’s real. All the templars in Kirkwall had them. Dwarf’s honor.”

Ottie laughed. “Come now, Varric, your poker face is usually much better than that.”

Whipping out a finely embroidered handkerchief and dabbing at the corner of his mouth, Dorian asked, “Do you suppose our Commander still wears his? Or would he have set them on fire on his way out the door?”

All eyes turned to Trevelyan. “Why are you looking at me?” She nervously took a sip of Dorian’s wine. “I’ve never seen them.”

Dorian left his eyebrow raised a touch too long.

“I think we can settle this once and for all,” Josephine said. “All I need is a deck of cards, the good wine that Dorian keeps hidden in his secret pantry, and for the Inquisitor to convince Cullen to take the night off.”

It was Ottie’s turn to raise an eyebrow, but she couldn’t sustain it under Josie’s excitement. She rarely saw the woman so enthusiastic, particularly about a night off, and sure enough Josephine reached out to cover one of Ottie’s hands with both of her own. “Trust me, Inquisitor. We shall find out what sort of undergarments our commander is hiding by the end of the night.”

And though that truly was not Ottie’s original question, she could find no reason not to go along with the plan, especially when the other two seemed so cheered by it. Another sip of Dorian’s wine, and Ottie was out the door to go recruit Cullen and anyone else who wanted in on this mission.

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly based on a different ficlet in which Alistair joked that templars were granted special underwear by the chantry. His joke became a rumor, and that rumor reached the Ostwick circle, and, well, here we are.


End file.
